


Truth Be Told

by rosatine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, matsuhana if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosatine/pseuds/rosatine
Summary: Oikawa contracts a weird condition that forces him to tell the truth, and the only way to solve this is to confess his biggest secret: he's in love with his best friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello~ this is my first time posting fic for this fandom please be gentle <3
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> [my tumblr is here](http://rosatine.tumblr.com/)

Oikawa wakes up cold, his blankets somewhere on the floor. When he swings his legs over the side of the bed, he steps on a stray volleyball and almost upends himself face-first onto the ground. In the bathroom, his hair just won’t stay the way he wants it to, and he finishes his morning routine with cowlicks and tufts still sticking messily out of his head. At breakfast, he burns his tongue on hot tea and nicks his finger on the edge of a butter knife.  
  
Oikawa’s been feeling off-kilter from the moment he woke up, and the sense of foreboding in his stomach does not quell his nerves. Something is off today, he can feel it.  
  
His fears are confirmed later when he meets Iwaizumi at his front door in his uniform and the first words out of his mouth are, “you look really good today”.  
  
Iwaizumi stares incredulously at him, and Oikawa slaps a hand over his mouth. There’s a short, stunned silence, then Iwaizumi laughs.  
  
“What the hell was that,” he wheezes. “Are you my boyfriend?”  
  
“I wish,” Oikawa mutters automatically, then his eyes widen. “I-I mean, you wish! You wish! Of course you want me to be your boyfriend, Iwa-chan, who wouldn’t?”  
  
“Idiot,” Iwaizumi flicks his forehead but drops the subject, and Oikawa is left to fluster about it on his own. He doesn’t notice Iwaizumi’s lingering gaze on his profile.  
  
~~~  
  
It seems like Oikawa has completely lost his brain-to-mouth filter. The strange compulsion to blurt out his thoughts against his own will follows him the entire day. He tells a girl her new school bag is tacky when she asks. Yells at Kyoutani about his sucky teamwork and attitude, barely avoids a fist to the face. Curses Kageyama more frequently than usual.  
  
But the most frightening thing of all is being near Iwaizumi. Oikawa can’t help but expose all his sappy thoughts about his best friend when he sees him—like how his smile lights up the room and Iwa-chan should smile more, really, his eyes crinkle in the most adorable way—and he’s had a few close shaves, clapping his hand over his mouth before he can tell Iwaizumi his eyes shine like stars.  
  
And this is why Oikawa Tooru has been subtly avoiding Iwaizumi Hajime for the better part of the day. He’s never been so glad they’re in different classes.  
  
“Makki,” Oikawa whines, dropping into the chair opposite his teammate at lunch and splaying his arms out over his table. “Help me. And I’ve never told you this before, but your pink hair is way too bright.”  
  
“Thanks,” Hanamaki responds, chewing his food calmly and tapping around on his phone. “If you trust Google, apparently there’s a weird illness where you can’t help but tell the truth. Either that, or you’re pregnant.”  
  
Oikawa shoots up to stare at Hanamaki. “Truth-telling illness?”  
  
“It says here it’s a myth, but people have reported feeling this way before.”  
  
“Is there a cure? How do I stop it?”  
  
“Apparently, you have to confess your biggest secrets to whoever they concern.”  
  
“What does that even mean,” Oikawa groans, rolling over on Hanamaki’s table. “I mean, my biggest secret is I’m in love with Iwa-chan, but—”  
  
Oikawa freezes. Hanamaki’s leering face hangs over his, and he folds his arms before glancing at his phone screen pointedly. “Says here that’s the only cure anyone’s ever heard of. Good luck, Oikawa. Matsukawa and I are rooting for you.”  
  
Oikawa whines and hides his face in his hands.  
  
~~~  
  
Somehow, it seems like Oikawa has managed to tell his great big secret to everyone but Iwaizumi.  
  
Well, it wasn’t like he was really trying to let Iwaizumi know because he’d rather kiss Ushijima Wakatoshi before he did, but he couldn’t help it.  
  
At lunch, a girl named Mayuri from the year below him pulls him aside, hands him a letter sealed with sparkly heart-shaped stickers and her name in delicate loops, and splutters out a confession. Oikawa only half-listens to her, thinking instead about how Iwaizumi’d never confess to anyone like this, how he’d probably tell someone he liked them straightforwardly, how his handwriting is rougher and messier and lacks grace but is endearing all the same, and by the time he’s realised he’s speaking out loud, Mayuri has stammered an apology and run off in embarrassment.

During a free period, one of the guys sitting in front of him leans over conspiratorially and asks him if there’s anyone he likes. Oikawa grits out “Iwaizumi” in the most unwilling tone possible, because the answer is literally being pulled from his teeth, and the boy is stunned for a moment before turning to whisper noisily with his friend.

Kindaichi spots him alone after class when he’s trying to run the fuck away from school after texting Iwaizumi to go ahead on his own, and muses at how unusual it is to see Oikawa without Iwaizumi. Oikawa helplessly mumbles “I’m avoiding him because I’m in love with him” under his breath and sprints off to the school gate.

He gets home and collapses on the bed in despair, curling into himself and nursing his heartsick feelings until he falls asleep.

~~~

Oikawa tells his mother he’s sick the next day, and his mother agrees to let him stay home. She sets a hot bowl of soup and some flu medicine on his bedside table and kisses his forehead before she leaves for work.

Oikawa spends most of the day sleeping, watching alien movies, ignoring his phone, and trying not to think about the inevitability of ruining his seventeen-year long friendship with Iwaizumi. He Googles the illness again at some point, finds that there really isn’t much on this strange disease he has. Hanamaki’s answer had come from the bottom of a Yahoo! question page, which really didn’t inspire any sort of hope in him, but he read it carefully anyway.

The user described her weird case of the truth syndrome, and how she’d went around speaking her mind before she’d accidentally let slip to her crush that she was in love with him, and the next day, she was fine. Oikawa wondered what if crush had accepted her feelings, and felt sympathy bloom in his chest at the possibility that he hadn’t, and they’d both had to go their separate ways to avoid the awkwardness of discussing their feelings.

But even so, most people haven’t known their crush for as long as Oikawa has known Iwaizumi, and the consequences of destroying their friendship would be way harsher than most. Oikawa imagines a life without Iwaizumi’s constant, steady presence at his side, and shudders.

His earliest memory is of spiky black hair and wide green eyes, a chubby hand offering him a toy car in placation because he’d been crying from a bruise on his knee. Not his mother’s eyes or his father’s smile; just Iwaizumi, young and boyish and taking care of Oikawa even at three years old. His mother loved to remind him about the time Iwaizumi went to a summer camp without him, and he spent the entire holidays sulking and whining for “his Iwa-chan” to come back. And when he did, Oikawa had clung to him and refused to let go, so the Iwaizumis had let him sleep over at his house with an apologetic call to the Oikawas saying “sorry, but your son won’t let go of mine, so…”

Maybe young, stupid toddler Oikawa had loved Iwaizumi even then, and hadn’t known to put a name to the foreign warmth blooming in his chest whenever he was near.

And Oikawa’s heard of best friends who grow apart with the inevitable passage of time, even if they’ve known each other their whole lives, and he thinks of a world, somewhere in the distant future, where he’s older and working and paying taxes and the name Iwaizumi Hajime doesn’t light a spark in his eyes anymore. Oikawa banishes the thought, hugs himself close. _I can’t lose him._

Well, speak of the devil. In his haze of doubt and insecurity, Oikawa hadn’t realised how late it’d gotten. The front door bangs open, an Oikawa hopes fervently that it’s his father, home early from work, or his mother, or even his sister, who only visited once every few months and—

Iwaizumi bursts through Oikawa’s bedroom door, and Oikawa wonders belatedly why he hadn’t locked it and why his mother had ever deigned to give Iwaizumi a key to their house. He can hear his best friend’s heavy breathing, and knows he must have run all the way from school out of anxious concern, and feels guilt settle like lead in his stomach for the thousandth time in his history with Iwaizumi. He’s always made him worry.

It’s Iwaizumi who speaks first, depositing a load of paper on his desk and muttering “homework”. There’s a short silence, and then he says, “you don’t look sick”.

Oikawa grunts in response. Iwaizumi sighs and seats himself on his bed, fixing his worried gaze on Oikawa’s side profile.

“I know something’s up. You’ve been avoiding me. Hanamaki said something about needing to tell me a secret?” Iwaizumi shifts closer, and Oikawa is abruptly hit by the realisation that he’s _missed_ him, missed him even though it’s only been one and a half days. He claps his hand over his mouth, mumbles his words into the palm of his hand, hopes Iwaizumi won’t hear him.

“What was that?”

Oikawa shakes his head stubbornly and hides his face in his hands. _He can’t know, he can’t—_

“Just tell me, come on. I worry about you, you know that.”

Oikawa retreats further into his metaphorical shell.

“Oikawa—”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa starts, laughing a little hysterically, the words leaving his mouth, unbidden. “Hajime. I love you.”

Iwaizumi stills beside him.

“That’s it. That’s the big secret. I’m in love with you and I can’t do anything about it. Please, god, don’t hate me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Oikawa sobs, feeling tears escape the corner of his eye and roll down his cheek. The heavy feeling in his chest dissolves, and his words are his own again, but he’s never felt worse. “I’m sorry, I messed up—”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi’ hand is on his cheek, wiping away a tear, cradling it gently. “Hey, look at me.”

Oikawa doesn’t want to, but Iwaizumi turns his face towards him regardless. Oikawa keeps his eyes firmly shut, tears sticking to his eyelashes. If he opens them, he’s bound to see Iwaizumi’s disgust with him.

Then he feels a soft pressure against his mouth and it takes a moment for him to register that he’s being kissed.

His eyes fly open, and Iwaizumi’s face is so close he could count the freckles over the bridge of his nose. He stills, relaxes; leans into the kiss, wraps his arms around Iwaizumi.

When they draw back, Iwaizumi’s blushing, and it’s so cute Oikawa has to kiss him again, and again, and again, until one of them tips the other over and they’re a tangle of limbs and giggles on the bed.

“I love you, too,” Iwaizumi murmurs quietly against his lips, and Oikawa kisses those words happily from his mouth, his to stow away and keep.

(The next day, they walk into practice holding hands, and Matsukawa whistles while Hanamaki smirks and begins a lecture on the importance of practising safe sex.)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://rosatine.tumblr.com/)
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> kudos and comments make my day!


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